


people who have money, and people who are rich

by magnetocent



Category: DCU (Comics), Green Lantern (Comics), The Flash (Comics)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Original Character(s), rich people talk, that's a warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 15:57:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16390745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnetocent/pseuds/magnetocent
Summary: title is a wip lolferris is having a 50th anniversary luncheon that hal must attend. but there are rules, no sleeping with shareholders or their spouses, and he has to bring someonerespectable. enter his bff barry.





	people who have money, and people who are rich

**Author's Note:**

> prompt fill for tumblr user taeniurus: hal just go to fancy expensive party for ferris and carol asks him to bring a plus one that is Respectable for once cause they gotta make a good impression and waits until the last moment, panics and asks barry like 5 min before be goes. Barry charms the pants off everyone while hal Aches with Longing™ and wishes it was real (but barry is the same). 'when did u two meet?' 'I caught him skulking in some bushes like a creep and almost crushed him like a grape' '.. cute'
> 
> it took me a while to write this and i had to fight like a mf to get through the writer's block. unfortunately, i am not a good fighter.

"Are you listening?" Carol barks, voice cutting through Hal’s aimless daydreaming. He quickly lifts his head from its resting spot on his fist and sits up straight in a delayed attempt to show his full attention.

"Yeah, yeah.” He says, waving a hand, “Important jet, try not to destroy it. Got it." 

He’s met with a frown, "Or...maybe not?"

"No," Carol replies, arms folded and unimpressed. But then she pauses, thinking for a moment, "Actually, yes. But that's a general rule that you should already know." 

She sighs after that, hand scrubbing over her eyes. After a moment, she stands, pushing out her chair from her desk and making her way around it to lean on the front.

“Ferris Air will be celebrating our 50-year anniversary with a beach luncheon and cocktails for our corporate shareholders and higher-ups," she explains a second time, "As well as our best pilots and engineers."

She gives him a look, the implication very clear.

"Yacht party with snobby rich people?” Hal whines, “No way." 

"Too bad. You have to come and meet the shareholders." She says with a hesitant finality, "Unfortunately."

Almost as if she was planning it, Hal’s mood changes, switching from stubborn younger brother to defensive as he sits forward in his chair, pointing a finger at her.

"Hey, I can shmooze those high-ballers, no problem. I'll charm the pants off them.” He says before he leans back with a cocky grin, “Maybe even literally."

Carol holds out a finger to him this time, like she’s training a misbehaving puppy, "No. I'm specifically asking you not to do that. I want you to bring someone. Someone  _respectable_."

Hal frowns, “Why?”

Sighing, Carol explains, “You have a -- A  _reputation_ , Hal. I want everyone to be comfortable knowing you won’t be leaving with their trophy wife or husband. And I just don’t want that to actually happen, either.”

They stare at each other for a moment, Hal eying her defiantly, while she returns with a strong but pleading look. If it were anyone else, he’d call them out, but it’s Carol. And she wouldn’t bother asking him for this if it weren’t important to her.

"Fine,” he agrees, “I’ll bring someone.”

He stands to leave, but Carol isn’t finished with her list of demands just yet.

"Please, someone good.” she almost begs, “No bimbos or mimbos. I have the same rule for them. That they won't leave you for the first sugar daddy who mentions their pocketbook."

"OK!" Hal exclaims, throwing his hands out to his sides, "Carol, I know respectable people."

But she continues, "No one who will start sociopolitical arguments. Or fights of any kind for that matter."

That makes him pause, but he nods anyway, reaching a hand out placatingly, "That'll be a bit harder, but I can do it. Don’t worry."

"I always worry when it comes to you." She replies, and Hal smiles softly.

"I'm going to take that positively." He says, then walks closer to bring her into a hug. She goes easily but then pushes him away in the same manner.

"Just..." she starts, biting her lip, "Please don't embarrass us. These people are important to our company."

"Carol," He murmurs, "I promise I'll be on my best behavior."

She searches his face for a moment before nodding and stepping back around her desk and into her boss mode again.

"You're dismissed." She says with a flick of her wrist. He goes, with new stress and feeling a bit hurt at Carol’s distrust of his choice of partners. He makes a note to show her he can be reliable for once.

\--

He takes the bus home, giving him time to think of who he could bring to this lame party that wouldn’t cause trouble. There weren’t many people in his life that fit into that very loose description. He thinks of Dinah, but she was busy enough as it was with the Birds and recording her new album to even give him the time of day recently. John would be a good option if he could be on Earth for more than an hour without some catastrophe to send him away again. He learned from Tom that the other man was already invited, and was bringing his wife. Not that Carol would believe they were together anyway.

That left one person. The one he was trying to avoid bringing, not only because of his aversion to social events, but also Hal’s apprehension to the thought of acting that close to him for a day. He digs his phone out of his pocket and opens it. Taps at the screen until that familiar face, biting into a double belly-buster burger, stares up at him in surprise. He presses the off button and shoves the phone back in his pocket. 

 _There has to be someone else,_  he thinks as he’s jostled in his seat by old and worn suspension. 

\--

There’s no one else. 

He stands up from his couch after the hour it took him to realize he doesn’t have that many close Earth friends who aren’t assholes and grabs his phone from the table. He opens it, this time swiping straight from the phone app on the lock screen and presses the call button for the third contact on his list. 

Barry picks up after a few rings, "Hey, what's up?"

"Just got home from work.” Hal lies, “I gotta ask you something."

"For the last time, Carol isn’t leaving Jillian for you. And vice versa, for good measure." Barry replies quickly. Hal hears a faint clinking of glass, wonders if it’s lab equipment or dishes.

"Not—god, I know that. It's a  _joke_!" He snaps. Then he sighs, rubbing at his eyebrow, "Ferris is having a thing for their 50 th this weekend and Carol wants me to bring a date."

"Oh.” Barry says, a bit distracted, “Well, I don't really know anyone who can get over to Coast City on such short notice--"

"I meant you, dumbass." Hal interrupts. He makes his way to his kitchen and grabs a beer from the fridge. Opens it and taking a long drink.

"Oh! Uh, um--"

"C'mon, you're not busy, are you?" 

There’s a short pause, he can almost hear the wheels spinning in Barry’s head, "Well--"

Before his friend can make any excuse, he begs, "Barry, please. For me?"

There’s another pause, and it takes a good amount of effort for Hal not to think of why it’s taking this much coercion to agree. He doesn’t like parties. That’s it, it has nothing to do with him.

"I—I guess I could." Barry finally agrees, "For the free food, though. Not you."

Hal can hear the smile in his voice, and while it hurts to hear that after those thoughts, he still chuckles, "Fine by me, whatever you want. Just get Iris to dress you, for the love of god."

"Hey!" Barry cries, making Hal smile more.

"I'll text you the deets. Thanks, buddy!" He says and hangs up before Barry can respond. He lets out a breath and sucks down half of his beer.

\--

The day of the luncheon, Hal carefully ignores how this will likely be hell on his emotions, and is ready and at the boardwalk right on time. He stays at the gates to meet with Barry, and get him through the security, but it takes an embarrassingly long time to remember that this is Barry Allen, and he was going to be late. 

Most of the guests have entered, the party in full swing behind him. He checks his watch every five minutes, as Carol lingers near the gates to make sure he won’t bolt as soon as she gets distracted. She sends him an irritated look, and he checks his watch again. It's been a full half hour since the event started.

"Where is he?" He mutters to himself.

"Hal.” He jumps. The speed at which Carol appeared behind him could rival that of his date’s, “Are you coming in soon?"

He turns her around by her shoulders and guides her back to the entrance, "Yeah, yeah. Just waiting for my date." 

She looks decidedly unimpressed, but heads back inside anyway, allowing Hal to grumble and pace in peace as he waits. Fortunately, it’s only another two or three minutes before he sees familiar blond hair on a figure running up to him. 

"Sorry I’m--"

Hal cuts him off, "Whatever, it's fine." 

He takes a moment to take in Barry’s outfit as the other man straightens his hair. Barry decided to go dressier than Hal’s navy-blue shorts, white button up, and aviators. The other man dons a white polo, tucked into his nicely fitted pair of light blue chinos, with dark loafers. His hair is combed back, and he has what looks like  _borrowed_ _,_  squared sunglasses because Barry would never buy any that don’t protect his peripheral vision.

"You look good," Hal says, a little breathless. It’s still Barry, but modernized, less  _dad-fashion_.

"Yeah?” Barry replies, unsure, “Iris went out and bought me...well, everything."

Hal chuckles, "Sounds about right." 

He holds out his elbow for Barry to slide his arm into – though it takes a moment for him to realize he’s supposed to—and leads them inside, "Let's go before Carol has an aneurysm."

They head inside, immediately greeted by the woman herself, looking far more happy and calm than a few minutes prior.

"Barry! Good to see you." She greets him. She goes in for a hug and catches Hal’s gaze over his shoulder. 

"Finally." She mouths at him, smiling. Despite how she doesn’t seem irritated anymore, he rubs at the back of his neck and gives her an apologetic look. The two pull apart, and she turns her gaze to Barry, beaming happily at him.

"Hey, Carol. Sorry I'm late.” he apologizes, “Congratulations on 50 years."

"Thank you." She replies, "I'm so happy to see you, and I'd love to talk to  _both_  of you, but I have two hundred guests to get to, so I'll have to see you later."

She gives them a short wave before she takes off, calling to another couple. They watch her go disappearing into the crowd. Barry moves back to rest his hand around Hal’s elbow again. 

“She seemed much...friendlier than usual,” he observes. 

Hal shrugs, “She’s in entertaining mode. You hungry?”

He doesn’t even have to look at Barry to see how the man’s face lights up at the mention of food.

\--

"Geez, take it easy on the apps, Bar." Hal says, eying his friend with disgust. Barry discretely shoves three more shrimp toasts into his mouth. 

"I ran almost two thousand miles to get here," Barry mutters around the food before swallowing, "I'm starving."

A couple wanders past them—shareholders, judging by the expensive looking Rolex on the man's wrist—and Hal tugs Barry closer to hide him gorging on some spinach puffs. He reaches up and thumbs hard at the man’s cheek.

"C'mere babe, you have some schmutz on your cheek." He says loudly, then whispers harshly into Barry's ear, "Well, finish up. Carol wanted someone respectable, not a party-crashing food stealer."

Barry glares at him before eating one more spinach puff and wiping his mouth with a napkin. And just in time, as Carol strides up to them with a middle-aged couple dressed in matching red, white, and blue stripes. The woman is wearing an extremely large brimmed hat that is almost as distracting as her too bright red lipstick, and the man has a deeply orange tan that looks even worse when he takes off his Dolce sunglasses. 

"This is one of our test pilots, Hal Jordan," Carol says, as he turns to greet the group. The man thrusts his hand out immediately, and Hal takes it, nodding in hello. 

"Ah, High-Ball, is it?" The Man says over an excessively long handshake.

"So, you’ve heard of me," Hal replies, letting a smirk grace his lips.

The man laughs, "Only the best."

"Not surprising," Hal says, winking. Carol is, shockingly, able to contain the eye roll he knows she'd give if she wasn't trying to impress these fat cats. She does touch his arm, however, which turns into a sharp pinch in warning. 

"Hal, this is Robert Richards," she introduces finally, "and his wife Samantha. They contributed the funds we needed to finish the Ferris F2-60 Thunder."

Hal raises an eyebrow, "No kidding! That was a smooth ride."

Robert looks all too prideful for someone who just threw money at the people who actually put the work in to complete the project, "Glad to hear!"

"And who's this?" His wife interrupts quickly, gesturing over behind Hal. Both Hal and Carol turn to Barry, who's gravitated into the background as they made their hellos. He smiles politely, but not unlike a deer caught in the headlights. Hal feels bad all of the sudden, that his friend came for him only to be pushed to the side  _by_  him. He slings an arm back, and tugs the other man into their little circle, pulling him into his side comfortably. 

"This my boyfriend," he says, "Barry Allen."

Barry gives a small wave, and Samantha's smile strangely gets wider and more excited.

"Do you work for Ferris as well?" Robert asks. Barry looks to Hal, who smiles at him, before answering. 

"Oh, no." He answers honestly, "I'm a forensic scientist at the CCPD."

 _A little too honestly,_ Hal thinks. Barry must have caught that slip too, judging by the slight widening of his eyes after he says it. He's never been the best liar. Not a big deal, though. Hal can come up with some stupid story about how the hell he met someone from Missouri. Central's a big city, it has an airport. While they were both waiting for luggage maybe? Or at a coffee shop? Simple enough, and they're known for them. 

"Ah!" Robert exclaims, pulling Hal from his thoughts, "An old friend of mine has a daughter who works in the Midtown Department."

Or, the guy could mistake the CC in CCPD for Coast City. That works. He hears Barry's sigh of relief and gently rubs his fingers into his waist to try to relax him.

"Well um, I'm at the HQ in Northgate, so she and I probably haven't met, unfortunately." Barry explains, a bit awkwardly. Robert nods, and hums in understanding, while Samantha just keeps shining those blindingly white teeth at the two of them.

"So, how did you two meet?" She asks animatedly. The pair shares a glance, and Hal takes it upon himself to cover this question. 

"I caught him skulking in some bushes like a creep and almost crushed him like a grape." He says, a bit too soon. Honesty must be the theme tonight. And it was definitely not what Samantha was expecting, as both she and her husband sport furrowed eyebrows, their lips taking a downward turn in confusion. Over the sudden awkward silence, Barry laughs.

"He's a terrible storyteller, right?" He says, laying a hand over Hal's chest. It takes a lot for Hal not to cringe as his friend pinches him sharply. Samantha takes a moment before she laughs too, and Robert joins in. Carol stands awkwardly by their sides and gives a crooked, embarrassed grin.

"I was—I was playing with my dog in the park and lost the ball in some bushes around a nearby school." Barry explains, "I was trying to find it, at the wrong time I guess – it was recess – and he got the wrong idea." 

He turns to Hal and smiles genuinely this time, "He grabbed me out of the bushes, like some trigger-happy cop." 

Hal's lips turn up as well at the honest memory. When he first saw Barry in that bright green construct and thought what a downer it was that someone so handsome could be a child snatcher. Guess he's lucky the guy turned out to be—well, Barry.

Not that—he's lucky he turned out to be a fellow superhero and a good friend. Not... _that_.

"Luckily, I had the ball by that time, and my dog came running out," Barry continues, "and he got the picture pretty quickly."

Hal clears his throat, and tries to smirk, "And he ended up being pretty cute, so I apologized by offering to take him to dinner."

Samantha throws her head back and gives a sharp, loud laugh, "You're lucky he said yes!"

The group all gives a polite chuckle, and Barry shrugs.

“Who could say no?” he counters. His hand, still on Hal’s chest, rubs into the fabric of his shirt, and his eyes darken when he looks back up at him. Hal swallows hard as he finishes, “You have to like a man who has a sense of duty, right?”

Samantha nods in understanding, “I guess that’s true for someone who works with police.”

It’s enough to make Barry break eye that eye contact, and give a sheepish grin.

Robert gives Hal’s arm a friendly swat, snapping him out of his own stare, “Better be careful that he doesn’t fall for one of his colleagues, huh?”

Still distracted, Hal looks to him, unable to find his words. But, as the attentive and supporting partner he is, Barry responds for him.

“And leave this guy? No way.” he quips, then sends Hal’s world spinning with one more fond look, “He’s my best friend.”

\--

Once they’ve had a bit more time to talk, Samantha whisks Barry away to introduce him to some of the other guests she knows, while Hal stays back and mingles with the engineers and other pilots present. He finds Tom and his wife eventually, and the three of them stick together after that. 

Every once in a while, Barry makes his way back to him, relief flooding his features as his hand finds Hal’s elbow each time, before Samantha enters and brings him away once more. It’s hard for Hal to know how to feel about that – annoyed because he can’t spend time with his date— _friend_ , or relieved that he can catch a break from all the touching and smiling and looks that seem to take over every moment they have together. 

Barry’s taking the whole thing very seriously, he finds. The other man has never really been the best liar or actor, but damn if he’s doing a good job of that today. It’s fraying Hal’s nerves, the juxtaposition of comfort and discomfort he feels every time those fingers brush his skin. The pride and sadness that comes when a shareholder lets him know how wonderful and polite and funny his boyfriend is, how lucky he is to have him. 

The warmth and emptiness when he catches the other man’s eyes across the party, and he smiles at him, calm and supportive before the spell is broken and Hal’s left by himself on a boardwalk full of people.

It’s a long few hours, and he can’t wait for it to all be over. 

\--

A good while later, when half of the guests have left, and the music has turned from live band to bring played over speakers, Carol’s eyes find Hal’s across the room, and she gives him a nod toward the exit and a smile. He throws her a thumbs up and makes his way to the table where Barry is still seated with Samantha, smiling tiredly but politely at what could only have been a boring anecdote.

Once he arrives behind his friend, he places a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. It’s immediately caught in one of Barry’s own and he has to take a second before he’s able to speak.

“Alright,” He says, looking down to meet Barry’s eyes, “Carol gave me the go-ahead to leave.”

Samantha sits up in her seat, eyebrows pinched in disappointment, “Oh! Already?”

“It’s almost 5,” Barry chuckles as he checks his watch, “We should be getting home for dinner.”

As he stands up, Hal raises an eyebrow at the word  _home—_ the implication – as the other man easily steps into his waiting arm. Barry only returns the look with a sheepish smile, as Samantha sits on, watching both of them delightedly.

“Living together only after six months, and you’re not sick of each other!” she exclaims, “You both chose well.” 

Hal narrows his eyes at his partner, “There’s still time.”

He lets the hand he has resting on Barry’s hip give him a sharp pinch, pulling a quiet protest from him as he grabs at Hal’s wrist. He pushes it off of himself, and Hal tries to wrestle it back to pinch him again. To anyone watching, they could be having a playful spat, but he knows Barry’s aware that he fucked up. That he shouldn’t have gone as far as to tell people they’re  _living together_. That it just complicates things for Hal when anyone asks about it in the future. 

He hears Samantha sigh dreamily, “With the way this one talks about you, you’ll be getting married by the end of the year.”

“Yeah?” he replies, and finally gives up, letting his hand slide to thumb into Barry’s palm, “Puppy love.”

Barry’s eyes soften as his fingers curl down to encompass Hal’s thumb. It sends his heart racing.

“You keep telling yourself that.” Samantha’s voice drifts in, hinting at the cheeky grin across her lips, before she scrapes her chair back to stand up, “Okay! Get out of here before you start mauling each other in front of everybody!”

She’s loud enough that a few other guests glance their way, and Barry’s hand drops like a lead weight from Hal’s grip. He flushes, red painting across his cheeks and neck and Hal clears his throat when he steps away to give the woman a polite hug.

“Bye, Samantha,” he mutters, “It was wonderful to meet you.”

She grins back, wide and seemingly ignorant to his embarrassment. “You too! Now, don’t forget our little pool party! I’ll send you the Facebook invitation.”

"Right,” Barry replies and turns back to Hal. He holds in his confusion, giving his own farewell. Once they’ve left the dock, and are out on the sidewalk, still pretending that it’ll be a long walk home, he asks about it. He doesn’t think about his arm still resting casually around his best friend’s waist.

“Pool party?” He asks amusement bleeding through the curiosity. He looks over when Barry doesn’t respond right away. The other man has his lip between his teeth, worrying it before sighing, and shooting him an apologetic look.

“It’s a... joke. We might be invited for a day on their yacht?” he admits. Hal frowns, breathing out a frustrated sigh, but can’t really bring himself to be too mad. It’s not like they have to go. With both of them leading busy lives just as civilians, it won’t be hard to come up with some excuse.

He squeezes at Barry’s waist to reassure him he’s not mad, “Had fun, huh?”

“She’s a funny lady,” Barry replies quietly. They come up to a shadowed and empty alleyway and turn into it.

“At least you were talking to someone this time instead of sitting in the corner.” Hal quips, smirking. Barry doesn’t take the bait, though—just hums in agreement. And when the green light from Hal’s suit illuminates his features—half-lidded eyes and tired frown, Hal can understand why.

“Tired?”

Barry gives him a short nod, “Yeah.”

“You can crash with me,” Hal says, more as a statement than an offer. He lifts himself into the air and encompasses Barry in a green aura.

“Thanks.”

\--

Before the door of Hal’s apartment shuts, Barry is already settling into the couch. He sighs and closes his eyes, looking all too exhausted for sitting and chatting to people. Hal takes a moment to watch him while he’s not paying attention. There’s the beginning of a sunburn blooming across cheeks and the bridge of his nose, and a brighter glow to his hair under the light. He looked really good today. The off-white of the polo Iris chose for him made his skin glow, and the fitted chinos hugged him in all the right places. Still do, as they bunch around his thighs and crotch— 

Hal clears his throat, “I’ll get you some sweats.” 

He turns before Barry can respond and searches through the pile of clothes in his laundry basket near the bedroom door. There’s a pair that he remembers shrunk in the last load he did and he tosses him to his friend. Barry only acknowledges with a hum, and Hal sighs, tapping his fingers on his hip as he stands.

“So,” he starts, “You did a good job pretending to be my boyfriend tonight.”

Barry cracks an eye open to look at him, “Yeah?”

“From what I heard.” Hal responds, “Couldn’t shut up about me.”

He grins as the redness on Barry’s cheeks deepens. 

“I guess not.”

Hal steps over, seating himself on the arm of the couch and leans over the form beside him, “You guess?”

“I didn’t realize until she mentioned it,” Barry explains and closes his eyes again. He shifts a bit into the cushions, hands coming to cross over his stomach, “It was a party for an aircraft manufacturer. What else would I talk about.”

“Jets. USAF. Rich people things.” Hal suggests, and chuckles when Barry’s eyes reopen to stare at him dubiously, “Your job, your other friends, Wally, your secret life as the scarlet speedster.”

“Very funny.” 

Barry wiggles in his seat again, sliding further down. His eyes train on a far point in the room as he frowns. Hal doesn’t know how to read this posture if it’s tired or sad or something else. It stirs worry in his stomach.

“I’m not good at parties, and she kept bringing up… _us_.” Barry says finally, then chuckles, but it comes out as more of a scoff, “She says she loves the gays.”

Hal nods, pursing his lips in sudden understanding, “Ah, I get it. At least she doesn’t hate them.”

It’s a barely-there silver lining, but Barry’s lip quirks up anyway.

“What I’m saying is, don’t let what she said make you feel uncomfortable or anything.” He explains, “She probably was just obsessed with knowing a gay couple, and went a bit overboard showing us she’s okay with it.”

Hal’s stomach drops, and he tries his best to speak normally through his tightened throat, “Yeah, right.”

They sit in silence after, both staring off to different points, absorbed in the afterthought of the conversation until Danger Zone emits from Hal’s pocket. 

He reaches in to grab his cell and is met with soft pink and familiar black hair.

“It’s Carol.” He says, getting up. He gives his friend a flash of one finger before he leaves to go onto his bedroom.

“What did I do?” he asks as greeting. Carol doesn’t miss a beat.

“Nothing, but Barry charmed the hell out of everyone.” She replies. Her voice is cheery through its tiredness. She’s in a good mood this time, which is a nice change of pace for both of them.

“Really?”

“Yes!” she replies happily, “I was being asked about him left and right. I had to explain he didn’t work for us so many times I was tempted to lie and say he was one of our fuel specialists.”

Hal walks over to the boxes he still uses as dressers and searches for more comfortable pants as she talks. 

“Huh.” He hums, pulling out a well-worn pair of jeans, “I bet Samantha Richards had something to do with that.” 

There’s a pause before Carol sighs knowingly.

“Oh,” she says with a hint of disdain, “She found another one to parade around.”

Hal sniffs the jeans and throws them on the floor when he gets a strong whiff of pot and body odour, “What?”

She breathes heavily, and Hal can almost see her rubbing at her eyes, “You know she ‘loves the gays’, right? She did the same thing to Jillian. That’s why she wasn’t there.”

“Hmm.” He hums before giving up on the jeans and instead tugging his shirt over his shoulders, “She must also love blonds.”

“Her and you.” Carol comments.

“You’re not blond.” He retorts. She scoffs, and he grins. After catching the scent of his own armpits, he makes his way out of the bedroom and to the bathroom, sparing Barry a small wave as he passes, which the other man returns tiredly.

“Anyway, I’m sorry to have put poor Barry through that,” Carol adds, Hal hears her swallow and imagines her drinking from the leftover champagne glasses as she used to when they were younger. He looks at himself in the mirror as he rubs on his deodorant and, in his mind, strips away the fine lines that are just starting to form, and conjures the image of his younger self. He caps the stick and fluffs his hair, and decides he doesn’t miss the pretty boy face anymore, likes the maturity in his features. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he replies. Carol mutters something to someone on the other end, and he takes the time to turn and run his hand over his flexed abs.

“How are things with Barry?” she asks finally, “I’m not going to lie, I wasn’t sure if I should be surprised that he came or not.”

“Why? I mean, Central has a lot of trouble with their Rogues, but nothing Wally can’t handle by himself.” Hal replies, finger trailing through the divots between muscle, “Plus Jay is just across the bridge.”

“What? No. I mean I was a bit surprised he actually said yes to you.” Carol clarifies.

“Parties aren’t his thing, but he comes through.”

A groan sounds through the earpiece, “I mean when you asked him out! Hello?”

That makes him stop and pay attention, “What?”

“That’s what I heard!” Carol yelps, “From a shareholder, by the way. Not him, or you. Thanks,  _bro_.”

Turning away from the mirror, Hal inches the door closed, “I—what?”

“When I saw him, I was like, ‘Wow! He actually did it!’, but then I find out you did it a  _while_  ago. Like, I don’t understand why you kept it a secret from me. Barry is great! And you’ve been pining after him for so long. And he’s so out of your league, and nothing like you. I can’t even believe you guys are friends, let alone  _together_  now—”

“Carol, stop. We’re not together.”

A heavy silence settles for a brief moment. Hal can hear the sound of a car horn outside his bathroom window, and background voices coming through the phone from Carol’s end.

“You’re not?” Carol asks, voice skeptical

“No. He was a fake date.” Hal explains.

“Really?”

He nods to thin air, “Yeah!”

“You’re lying.”

“No!” he says, shaking his head. There’s another momentary pause between them.

“You’re not together.”

It hurts to have to confirm it once more, “No.”

“Could have fooled me!” Carol cries out, “You guys were all over each other. And he was gushing like crazy about you.”

Even though it’s the second time he’s been told that very thing tonight, it’s still a shock to hear it. Maybe because it’s coming from someone who actually knows them personally.

“He was?”

“Oh my god, I was going to throw up.” Carol says. She makes a gagging noise, the image of her sticking her finger to her mouth like some nineties teen movie star pops into Hal’s head. He shakes it off along with any hope that had formed in his chest. She’s definitely has had a bit to drink.

“No, that must have been Samantha hassling information.” He suggests.

“More like hinting at it, and he’d take it to gagging-levels of shmoop.” She counters. Hal takes a moment, eyes trained on the dripping water from the faucet. 

“Really?” he asks quietly.

“Again, me. Puking.” Carol confirms with a hard finality, “But it was cute, too.”

That couldn’t be true. Barry doesn’t—

But then, Hal thinks back to moments from tonight. The ease at which both came together, hands finding their spots on each other like they were made for them. Barry’s gentle, fond smile when he told the Richards’ about how they met. That one moment where he reached to wipe a drop of champagne from Barry’s cheek and the other man leaned into the motion like it wasn’t anything. Like it was a regular occurrence between them.

“I have to go,” Hal says suddenly. He barely listens to Carol’s response, not enough to notice the clear hint of a smile that comes through.

“Ugh, me too. Still at the dock. Have a good night.” She says.

“Bye, Carol.”

He sticks the phone into his pocket and walks out of the bathroom, mind spinning. He’s not sure if he wants to confront Barry or not—not sure if he should trust the words of his friend and strangers, or of the man himself. He wants to ask, to just get it out in the open to confirm his suspicion, but then—if he’s wrong, he doesn’t know if he could handle that heartbreak. 

When he sees his friend, still sprawled in the same position as he left him, eyes closed, looking all too comfortable and unassuming, he decides to leave it for now. The last thing he wants is to stress out the man even more than he was today. Especially since his exhaustion was caused by Hal in the first place.

He breathes heavily through his nose, “Sleeping already, bro?”

Barry’s lips quirk up slightly, “Maybe.”

Kicking an outstretched foot, Hal scoffs. After a brief moment, Barry shifts and sits up, rubbing at his eyes and leaning forward onto his knees, “Do you have anything to eat? Didn't really get much of that lunch buffet.”

Hal takes a moment to think, heads to his kitchen to check the cupboards. They’re empty, so he looks in the fridge.

“I have—” Absolutely nothing, he finds, “You like mayo?”

“Mayo with...?” Barry begins. When Hal only stares at him, non-responsive, he balks. 

“Hal.” he scolds, then stands, “Put your shirt back on.”

“Where are we going?” Hal asks, grabbing the first shirt he sees.

“Groceries.” Barry responds and receives a nasal whine from under the fabric pulled over messy hair, “Stop.”

Hal gives him another whine as he grabs his keys, and grins at the glare Barry gives him as they leave.

\--

“Get a basket." Barry commands him as they walk through the doors of the small grocer down the street, "What’re you feeling?”

Hal does as he's told, letting the basket hang lazily from his fingers, and shrugs, “Whatever, you pick.”

Barry acknowledges him with a small nod and sets off, Hal following closely behind. They wind their way to the meat counter in the back, where Barry asks the butcher what's fresh, and Hal lingers behind his shoulder, leaning forward to glance at the various products the man behind the counter suggests. There are two beautiful looking steaks sitting near the front of the fridge, and he jabs his hand between Barry's arm and side to point them out. He doesn't say anything, just taps on the glass, and Barry shifts his gaze to them.

"We'll take the two triple A's at the front," he says, not even sparing Hal a questioning glance – only a fond smile twitches his lips. They're wrapped and placed in the basket, and Barry's off to find vegetables to go with them. He tells Hal to grab whatever seasonings he wants—mentions to stick to a certain brand and Hal rolls his eyes, knowing it’s because there are  _coupons_ —then they meet back up in the bakery section after. Hal walks up to Barry, holding the basket out when he reaches to set onions and peppers, and a salad kit inside. His eyes are trained on the buns and small loaves in front of him, contemplating. 

"This," Hal says, picking up the crusty Italian loaf at the bottom. He places it in the basket, and leads Barry to the neighbouring desserts, knowing the other man will have more than enough room after their meal for it. He grabs a box of four black forest cupcakes, and stares at it, thumb tapping against the cardboard.

“I don’t have anything for breakfast,” he says absently. 

“Okay,” Barry replies, taking the box and basket from him, “Go grab anything you need. I’ll meet you at the cash.”

Hal nods, and turns to go, but not before placing a soft touch to the small of Barry’s back. He catches himself immediately, causing the touch to linger and drag before he dashes away. No big deal, though. It was just a friendly pat.

He gets to the fridges, only a few feet away, as a young woman with dreadlocks pulls a liter of milk from one of them, then smiles at him.

“You two are cute,” she says, teeth shining white against her dark skin, “I hope my girlfriend and I are as in tune as you guys when we’re older.”

Hal just stares, gives her an awkward huff of a laugh and nods, not bothering to correct her because it doesn’t matter. Especially since she’s walking away now. He grabs the eggs and rushes to get a pack of microwave bacon, and meets Barry in line at the register. The new groceries are piled with the others, and an elderly man lines up behind them. His cart nudges Hal in the back, forcing him forward. Barry glances back and steps forward, but the woman and children in front of him are still waiting, and they’re stuck in the less than two feet of space between.

Not a big deal. Hal just leans his hand onto the counter, and concentrates on the movement of the cashier, scanning and placing food into reusable bags. The heat from Barry’s back and the soothing smell of his cologne don’t distract him. He watches the other man’s cheeks turn a light pink as he scrolls through Groupon and studies the intent stare, he has on the phone screen curiously. 

"Find anything?" He asks, watching his breath move the hair around Barry's ear. That pink shade grows darker, and Barry nods an affirmative.

"The cupcakes are twenty percent off," Barry replies quietly. Hal nods in response, and they move to the cashier to finish up.

\--

As soon as they get back to the apartment, Barry sets off to the kitchen. In a few seconds, everything is spread out across the counter, and Barry is handing an open beer to Hal. He grabs it and ushers the other man into the living room.

"Go relax, I’ll take care of everything.” He says, ignoring all of Barry’s protests, “Don’t have a TV or computer, but there are some books in the side table.”

Not even sparing the other man a second glance, he turns back to his small kitchen and gets to cooking. It takes him a moment to remember where everything is in this apartment, and how to work the decades-old oven, but eventually he gets into the groove. 

A little-known fact about Hal is that he  _can_  actually cook. It’s a skill he learned way back when he was a teen and was looking after Jim while his mom was at her second job and Jack was in class or at his own part-time job. It took a lot of burnt food and ruined cookware, but he mastered the staple of meat and potatoes. Veggies came after, when he and Oliver became friends and he quickly learned the other man refused to eat anything with a beating heart. He wouldn’t say he’s a master chef, but he can cook a mean steak, and he intends to give his friend a good meal to repay him for the torment he must have been through earlier that day.

While he sautés and sears and mixes, he hears pages flipping erratically and the rummaging of books every few minutes. He briefly wonders while he plates their food if there was enough in there to keep a speedster occupied.

When he’s finally done and bringing the food into the other room, he notices Barry has his beaten-up copy of  _West with the Night_ , eyes glossing over the first few pages slowly, as if he was savoring the words like Hal himself did when he first read it. It makes his heart quicken, knowing the other man is seeing and comprehending and feeling the same words for the first time as he himself did long ago. That Barry is taking his time to really read it as if he’s trying to understand it in the way Hal does. 

It’s oddly intimate. And when Barry smiles up at him and places it carefully on the arm of the couch beside him, Hal feels... _content_. It's not a foreign feeling with Barry, and that’s what scares him the most. Makes him sit a bit further than he was planning to, and rethink the flirtatious words and responses he came up with while he was busy in the kitchen. 

The rest of the night follows similarly. They eat and chat quietly. Sit in warm silence after, until Barry’s stomach growls again and Hal hands him the whole box of cupcakes to eat. Barry offers him a bite of one out of guilt of eating them all, and Hal catches himself before he takes a bite out of it while Barry still holds it, instead carefully ripping a piece off and only allowing himself a tiny brush of fingers. 

Then later, when they’re both leaned back on either side of the couch, Barry picks up the book again, turning through it and asking questions. Hal lazily responds, half paying attention, until the book is held in his direction. 

“Read me your favourite parts,” Barry requests, a small smile playing at his lips, “It’s your place, you have to entertain  _me_  this time.”

Hal pauses for a moment at the strange request but obliges. He opens to dog-eared pages, reading passages, and flipping through in silence until he finds others. It’s not until a good while later that he looks up and notices Barry fast asleep, face pressed into where the back and arm of the couch meet. He takes a moment to watch before he gets up silently and pulls his friend’s legs to stretch out across the newly open space. He goes to grab a spare sheet to cover him and momentarily considers waking him up, softly offering the spot in the bed next to him. 

He sighs, gently laying the sheet down before turning away. There’s not enough room anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> let me know if there are any mistakes or confusing wording. i read through it a couple times but u no


End file.
